


In My Head

by FanFictionaries



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face-Fucking, Penis Size, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFictionaries/pseuds/FanFictionaries
Summary: Being a technological genius had its ups and downs. The downs being you spent more time in your head than you did in the real world. What happens when that character trait has you seeing a whole new side to Steve Rogers? A lot of new sides.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 219





	In My Head

It was your fault, really. You were never known for being overtly present. In truth, unless it was completely required, focusing on the world around you was rarely your main priority. Some called you spacey. Others an airhead. But really it was just that you had more things to think about than where you were going or what the people around you were doing. Your high functioning intelligence made things like algorithms and technical designs the forefront of your attention, while everything else just seemed to blend into the background. White noise. That’s why Tony saw you as such an asset to his lab. There was nothing he loved more than someone who focused on their work so much that everything else took the back burner. So, you never felt the need to be apologetic about your airy personality. If Tony found it acceptable and you found it natural, then why was there a need to change?

Well, the events of that afternoon were a testament to the downfalls of your nature. You were stuck on a problem. You couldn’t get the circuitry on Nat’s new and improved Black Widow’s Bites. It kept shorting out and it was driving you insane. The frustration was manifesting itself throughout your body, agitation and pent up energy coursing through your veins. Deciding to run it off, you left your lab in the basement of the compound and made your way to the gym. Hopping onto one of the many treadmills, you whipped out a strenuous three miles, letting your mind wander over your problem with each step. By the time you stopped the machine, you were sweaty, out of breath, and thoroughly satisfied. You were pretty positive you’d fixed the circuitry issue, the only thing left to do was go back to the lab and apply it physically. Lost in thought, you wandered into the locker room, planning on rinsing off and changing into your work clothes. Steam billowed from the shower area, the sound of water running from a single stall. Making your way to your locker, you began to strip in front of it. Dirty clothes piled on the bench in front of you, you opened your locker to grab your towel and soap only to find it empty. What the heck? Where were your clothes? Maybe you were in front of the wrong one. Opening the locker next to it, you found that one empty as well. A few more lockers opened, and you were thoroughly confused. Empty. All of them empty. You were sure that you’d chosen a locker in that area. Coming back to reality in a rare moment of clarity, you looked around you to see that yes, you were in a locker room, but it looked wrong. Everything seemed…flipped.

The squeak of the shower faucet turning off caught your attention instinctually. Looking to your left, you saw the curtain slide open and to your horror Steve Rogers completely naked. You stood frozen; eyes wide as you took in his impressive form. Sinewy, wet muscle stretched from his traps to his obliques, the sharp cut of his adonis belt pointing like an arrow to a light brown patch of curls. What sat below, caught you completely off guard. Steven Grant Rogers had the largest cock you had ever seen in your life. It was a few moments before Steve noticed you as well. Wide eyed and slack jawed, the time ticked on as the two of you stood rooted to the spot in shock, unable to look away from each other’s naked forms. The distant sound of heavy gym equipment broke you from your trance and you let out a squeak, breaking Steve from his stupor as well.

“What the hell (Y/N)!?” exclaimed Steve, covering himself with his hands and staring up at the ceiling. But it was too late, you’d seen it all and so had he. “Why are you naked?!”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” you cried, running from the room and putting your clothes on as quickly as possible without tripping. You ran barefoot through the gym, your shoes long forgotten on the bench in the locker room. You didn’t stop until you made it all the way to your lab and even then, you didn’t stop.

You’d been in your lab for the past week, working nonstop. Locking yourself away seemed like the best option, and so you only left the small space for necessary provisions like food and bathroom breaks. The loveseat you kept in the room had become incredibly handy as well, allowing you to take small cat naps in between your work. You hoped that if you could keep your mind occupied, you wouldn’t think about what you’d seen. You wouldn’t think about _all_ that you’d seen. All that _he’d_ seen. But alas, it was no use. All the important and creative things that usually floated through your mind, blinding you to the outside world, were gone. Replaced by more…inappropriate but equally creative things.

Lost in a vivid daydream of riding Captain Steve Rogers till the cows came home, you didn’t realize that the soldering iron you’d been using had slipped from your grip and was currently burning a hole through the sleeve of your shirt. When the searing pain of 400 degrees Celsius came into contact with your arm, you jumped back clutching your arm to your chest.

“Fuck! Motherfucking fuck! Jesus motherfucking Christ! Mother fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scrambled to the sink, yanking up your sleeve and turning the cold water on high.

“Whoa, put a quarter in the swear jar, why don’t ya?” Natasha’s voice rang through the room, obviously having heard your outburst. She came to your side, observing your arm through the clear stream of water, a bored expression plastered her face. “Ehh, I’ve seen worse.”

“You’ve seen worse than a 400 degree Celsius burn?” you asked incredulously, the burning sensation beginning to dwindle as the cold water numbed the pain and flesh.

“Don’t suppose you’ve ever seen what a Vietnam land mine can do to a man, have you?” Natasha asked with blasé, picking up the soldering iron from the floor and turning it off before carefully placing it in its stand. 

“Point made,” you responded, turning the water off and delicately toweling off the area. You inspected your arm further; it wasn’t the worst thing you’d done to yourself in the lab. It may blister, but not bad enough to warrant a hospital visit. Moving to the first aid kit, you pulled out the burn cream and ointment, applying it to your arm followed by a large bandage.

“You’ve been noticeably absent. What’s been keeping you all cooped up?” Nat asked. Her tone was casual, but you’d known her long enough to know that no question from Natasha Romanov was ever casual. Chances are, by the time she was asking you a question she already knew the answer.

“I take it you’ve spoken to Steve then,” you sighed, moving to your workbench and beginning to fiddle with the first thing you saw.

“Something like that—" Natasha smirked “—If you count him glaring at me and insisting it was none of my business, then yes it was a riveting conversation.”

“Then you _don’t_ know what happened?”

“I may have gotten Steve to spill the beans,” said Nat, fighting a small smirk. You rolled your eyes. Spies and their interrogation skills. 

“I didn’t mean to walk in on him! I was thinking about how to fix _your_ stupid bites and—”

“Oh, so now it’s _my_ fault?” Natasha raised a speculative eyebrow at you, making you backtrack.

“No, no, I just—I saw…I saw him _naked_ Nat! And he saw me naked and…”

“And?” Natasha asked, not fazed at all as to why it was such a big deal.

“I saw him naked and I liked it!” you admitted, leaning over your workbench and burying your face into the cold metal top.

You heard the crass bark of Natasha’s laughter, “Of course you liked it (Y/N), he’s a super soldier. I doubt you’d find a guy nearly as built as him.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about his…ya know!”

“Oh? Please elaborate,” said Natasha, leaning against the workbench opposite of you.

With a heavy sigh, you stood up, holding out your hands out to represent the length of Steve’s well…length. Natasha gasped, “No! You’re lying!”

**“I swear to you, I saw it! It was like a baby’s arm holding an apple!”**

“Okay – you have officially been spending too much time with Tony,” said Natasha, walking over to you and placing her hands on your shoulders. “Look – you’re going to have to get over this sooner rather than later and by sooner, I mean a few seconds because I may have agreed to distract you so that you couldn’t run when Steve came down here to talk to you.”

“You what?!”

Just as you made to run for the door, Steve walked through it, the entirety of him making the space feel small. You stood there, staring at each other in awkward silence.

“Well—" said Natasha cutting the tension “—I can see that the two of you have a lot to discuss. I’ll just be going.”

And with that the red head was gone, leaving the two of you to stand in silence. You stared at the ground, unable to look at the man without thinking about his…oh god, you couldn’t even say it in your head. In all honesty, it shouldn’t be surprising that the super soldier was packing, but you never expected it to be so MASSIVE. God, this was wrong. He was a human being. Not just some piece of meat. Some thick…big…piece of delicious meat.

“Look, about what happened—” Steve began, but you cut him off.

“I’m so sorry Steve. Really, I wasn’t thinking, and I thought I walked into the women’s locker room and apparently it was the men’s locker room and I really shouldn’t have ogled you the way I did and—”

Steve chuckled, stopping your apology in its tracks, “You’re sorry? Here I thought you were upset with me for checking _you_ out.”

“Truthfully, I didn’t even notice. I was too…um, you were checking me out?”

Steve went bright red, “Well, I mean, yea. You’re a beautiful woman and you were naked. I mean, I’m Captain America, but I’m no saint.”

“Oh.” You were quiet, letting his words settle. Steve thought you were beautiful. That was news to you. “Well, I guess while we’re being honest, you were pretty impressive to look at as well.” _Some parts more than others._

“And what parts would that be?”

It wasn’t until Steve asked, eyebrows raised and an amused look on his face that you realized you’d said that last part aloud. Shit.

“Is it my…arms? Legs? Chest?” Steve asked, stepped towards you slowly with a teasing tone in his voice.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. You were thoroughly embarrassed.

“Come on (Y/N), tell me. I need to know what my best feature is.” Clearly Steve was trying to lighten the mood, but if he knew what you really thought his ‘best feature’ was, he wouldn’t be treating this so lightly.

“I don’t really want to—”

“Is it my shoulders? I tend to get complimented on them a lot. Or is it my—”

“Your penis! It was your penis Steve! You literally have the biggest dick I’ve ever seen!” Your hands flew to your mouth, as if you could retroactively grab the words and stuff them back into your brain.

Shock splashed across Steve’s face before quickly dissolving into something different. He took another step towards you, crossing his arms and emphasizing the bulging muscles of his upper body.

“Oh my god. I am absolutely mortified. Please, can we just pretend like I didn’t just—”

“Like you didn’t just say I have the biggest dick you’ve ever seen?” Steve asked, smirking down at you, arms still crossed. The words sounded so delicious coming from his lips and heat began to pool in your center.

“Jesus…yes. That. Can we just pretend like I didn’t say _that_?” you pleaded. The last thing you needed was Steve of all people teasing you about this.

“Hmmmmm, I don’t think I can.” Steve looked down at you in mock thought, his expression speculative.

“Steve, please. Don’t do this,” you pleaded again, turning away from him and moving across the lab to fuss with some equipment. Maybe if you physically distanced yourself, he’d understand that you didn’t find the joke funny in the least. It might also calm you down – your nipples were so hard you were sure they could be seen through the many layers of clothing you wore.

“Do what?” Steve asked from behind you, his voice slowly growing louder as he approached your turned figure. “I’m just curious. Tell me, have you been thinking about my cock all week? Is that why you’ve been hiding? Avoiding me? Because you can’t stop thinking about it?”

You turned, meeting the hard flesh of his chest. How had he snuck up on you so easily? His words were antagonistic, but seeing his face up close, you realized that his eyes held a dangerous glint to them. You used your tongue to wet your lips, throat suddenly feeling dry, “I um…I—that’s—well that’s just ridiculous.”

“Really? I don’t think so—” He uncrossed his arms, leaning down to brace them against the countertop behind you, invading your space “—I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your body either. How it looked. How it would feel in my hands. Would it would be like to have you under me. Over me. Those perfect lips wrapped around me.”

His words had you in a trance. Had Steve really been fantasizing about you the way you’d been fantasizing about him? There was no way he was interested in you seriously. What would he want with the space cadet in the labs? It had to be purely physical. You’d never been one for casual anything. Still, the thought of his hard, long member in your mouth made you salivate. You squirmed, thighs rubbing together and a small whimper escaping your lips.

“Oh (Y/N), sweetie. If you wanted a taste, all you had to do was ask,” said Steve, his tone condescending. Reaching a hand up, he tapped you lightly on the nose before pushing away from you and reaching for his belt. You watched as he undid the buckle followed by the button of his slacks and then slowly slid his zipper down. Slipping his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, he pushed the fabric down just enough to reveal the entirety of him. He was even bigger than you remembered – although that might be because the last time you’d seen it, he’d been fully flaccid. Now, you watched as the smooth skin slowly tightened as he grew in length. He grasped himself in one of his large hands and stroked himself a few times, smirking confidently at your slack expression.

“Well—” he motioned down to his fisted cock “—get on your knees sweetie. It’s not going to suck itself.”

The words should have angered you. They should have sparked a small flame of defiance that said, ‘suck it yourself, you asshole’. He was being presumptuous, cocky, demeaning.

And yet…

You dropped to your knees, wasting no time as you wrapped your lips around the thick head. He was thick, unimaginably so, but that didn’t deter you. Relaxing your jaw, you let your tongue run along the underside of the tip. He tasted heady, raw, masculine. The musk of his skin and salt of his precum coated your tongue as you took him deeper. Forming a seal around what length you could manage, you sucked languidly, bringing a hand up to grip the sizable rest of him.

Steve moaned, a hand coming down to lightly rest of the top of your head as you bobbed on his cock, “That’s it. What a little cock slut. You like that? You like worshipping this dick? You can barely get halfway down but look at you try. It’s so adorable.”

You shuddered, his words causing a visceral reaction in your body. You could feel it, the wetness building between your legs. Sinking deeper onto his length, relaxing your throat and allowing just the tip to pass the threshold, you slid a hand down your body and up your skirt. Not even making it to the inside of your panties, you felt the proof of your arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. You moaned, trailing your fingertips over the slick and up to meet your soaked center.

Fingers threaded into the hair on the back of your head and yanked harshly. You cried out, reaching up to grip Steve’s forearm as he pulled you roughly off his cock and back up to your feet.

“Look at you,” he said, running a thumb over your spit soaked lips, the saliva dribbling down your chin as you breathed heavily. “So pretty.” He pressed his thumb past your lips, letting it rest against the flat of your tongue as he gripped your jaw tightly in his hand. Slowly, he slid the digit further and further back before removing it and replacing it with two of his fingers. When he reached the back of your throat and met no resistance he kept going, a look of pride on his face. He was impressed. He fucked your throat with his fingers, your hair still gripped painfully in his other hand. When he was satisfied, he pulled his wet fingers from your mouth and brought them down below your skirt, shoving past your panties and using the moisture to rub your already sopping cunt. You whimpered at his touch.

His eyes never left yours, his unwavering gaze challenging you to say something. To say anything resembling a no. It was like a test. A test to see how far he could push you. How far you’d let him push the boundaries of what was and was not acceptable. So, this was what the great Captain America was into. You could tell he liked to see you like this, pliable like putty in his hands. His to shape and mold. You could see it in the way he almost vibrated with satisfaction when you gave in. When you let him use you like an object. In that moment, you never felt more like an object. Steve made you feel like you were nothing but a body to play with and use for his pleasure. The way he looked at you. Like he wanted to possess you. No. Like he _already_ owned you. Your mind told you to run. It told you that everything he was doing was wrong. But your body, your body had never felt so alive. If Steve Rogers wanted to treat you like an object, then call you a fucking lamp.

Sighing in satisfaction, Steve gripped your hair tighter and began to walk, dragging you towards your small loveseat. Tripping over yourself, you attempted to keep up with his long, fast strides. He pulled you roughly onto the cushions, positioning you onto your back with your head hanging off the side. Your skin prickled with anticipation as he flipped your skirt up, yanking the thin material of your panties down your legs. Next was your shirt – body raising off the couch long enough for him to pull the material over your head. The cups of your bra were pulled roughly down, revealing the soft flesh of your breasts, nipples peaked. He gave the sensitive tips a gentle squeeze; your body arched into his touch.

“So sensitive. I like that,” Steve hummed, moving to stand above your head. Gripping his shaft, he pressed the tip to the seam of your lips, “Open.”

You did as you were told, opening wide to allow his length to slowly slide into your mouth. Conscientious of your teeth, you took him as deep as you could. When his cock met the barrier of your throat, Steve’s hand came down to stroke the delicate skin of your neck. He ran the tips of his fingers along the length, his touch feather light.

“Relax. Breathe through your nose.” His voice was firm and commanding. Tilting your head further back, you relaxed your tongue and throat, allowing him to slide further and further until his pubic bone met your chin. At the realization that you had managed to take all of him down your throat, your pussy clenched, and clit throbbed. Breathing heavily through your nose, you waited as Steve kept himself still inside your mouth.

“Now—" Steve began, breath coming in rough pants, “—I’m going to fuck this tight little throat of yours. How does that sound?”

You moaned around his length, making him growl at the vibrations.

“Oh, I think you like that. Why don’t you touch that little pussy? Play with your little clit while I fuck your throat with my cock.”

You touched yourself, the sweet pull of his erection only adding to your arousal as he began to thrust in and out of you. He was gentle at first, taking his time. But very quickly his pace became erratic and so did your fingers at your center. Dipping your hand down, you fingered yourself, feeling the building sensation of an orgasm on the brink already. A second hand at your core caught you off guard. Steve was leaning over you, his own hand pushing your fingers out of the way and diving into your depths. His fingers were longer and wider than your own, reaching places previously untouched.

“Fuck! You are absolutely dripping. Does this turn you on? My fat cock using your little throat? If I’d known you were such a little slut for big cock, I would have shown it to you a long time ago.” He continued to finger you, your own hand at your clit, hips bucking uncontrollably as you chased your completion. You were growing lightheaded, unable to breathe through your nose as well, as he used you for his pleasure.

“You’re close. I can feel it. Come on my fingers. Come on my fingers while I come down this tight little fuck hole,” demanded Steve, fingers picking up pace. His other hand wrapped around your throat, feeling his own cock moving through the thin layer of flesh. He squeezed ever so lightly, the pressure making him moan. Your vision began to turn black, head drifting ever higher as the coil in your womb grew tighter and tighter until it was too much. Your body convulsed under him, crying weakly around his length as your orgasm took over. The last thing making it into the conscious forefront of your mind, the sound of Steve’s own release and the warm sensation of his cum splashing down your throat.

When you came back to reality, you found yourself wrapped up in the warm arms of a certain super soldier. Seated on his lap, he rocked you gently, a large hand stroking your back, your hair, your face. Blinking up at him, he smiled down at you. All traces of the hard, patronizing, possessive man were gone. Replaced with the soft, kind eyes of the Steve Rogers you and the rest of the world knew.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, voice soft, as he stroked your cheek.

Your own ‘hi’ came out cracked and hoarse, evidence of the rough session that had just occurred. Steve looked down at you, his face a mixture of adoration and regret.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, “I’m so sorry (Y/N). I didn’t mean to lose control like that, I just—you just—” The words escaped him. He looked away exasperatedly.

You reached a hand up, cupping his face and making him look back down at you, “Hey, I’m okay. I’m a big girl. You didn’t break me.”

You gave him a small smile, grateful when he returned it.

“Are you sure? I mean, you passed out,” Steve said, giving you a look akin to a kicked puppy.

Who was this man, that he could go from dominant and possessive to sweet and child-like so quickly? Shaking your head, you laughed lightly, lifting up to place a soft kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, his lips soft and firm against your own. He held you close, arms strong and protective around you. Pulling away, you looked up into the blue azure of his eyes, “I’m sure. Besides, you know me – always stuck in my head.”


End file.
